Credo
by rawrchelle
Summary: Itachi/Sakura. Why is it that the more I tell myself to raise my defenses, the more they fall, and the faster I fall with them?


**notes:** i don't like first person, but eh, this is a little different. i think it's actually pretty good.**  
theme:** 29. leap of faith (for my 50_shinobi lj challenge)

* * *

"I don't need you." I won't admit it, but her words hurt. I don't understand why, or why they _should_ hurt, but they do anyway.

"I could say the same to you." I find it hard to say, but it hangs in the air, regardless, dangling heavily over me, just threatening to fall. But if it does—_when_ it does—I'll catch it.

Her tears are brimming at the corners her eyes, and I vaguely wonder why she would cry. But it's a petty matter, anyway.

"But…I want you." Her voice is hushed, desperate, needy, _weak_. I'm somewhat disgusted—but not because of what she says, but because of how I'm affected her choice of words.

_I want you, too._ The words are bitter on my tongue, begging to escape my lips. I contemplate it for a moment.

I don't let them go.

* * *

I know how she works. It surprises me, to say the least.

She'll protect anyone that's important to her. That's the major difference between the two of us. If it's to cost me my life, I would rather let her die. I'll always be the top priority on my list—not a kunoichi from the village that I no longer value.

She had told me once, that if she had to choose between her village and me, she would choose me.

I asked her why. She had said it was because I was more important to her than her pride and friends. When I heard this, I called her stupid and weak.

She had smiled, and said, "I know."

* * *

I stare at her, and what she holds in her hands: a plate of cabbage stir-fry.

"What are you doing?" I ask, brushing past her and pouring myself a glass of water. My question bounce off the cold, frigid walls—or maybe it's just my imagination—but when I look back at her, she seems unaffected by my harsh words. They're clearly not harsh enough.

I'm beginning to fear that I'm growing attached to her.

She frowns. "It's cabbage. You like cabbage, right?"

I don't know where she heard that from, but I'm tempted to try the dish anyway. I _do_ like cabbage—but I don't intend to tell her that.

"No, I don't."

She puts the plate on the table and hands me a pair of chopsticks anyway. Her fingertips linger on my skin for a small moment before she pulls away—

And I wish she didn't.

"You should try it anyway, you know. It's common courtesy."

So I taste it. It's not half bad—but that'll be something that I'll keep to myself.

"Never do something as ridiculous as wooing me with cabbage ever again."

She smiles. "I won't."

Yes. I'm growing much too attached.

* * *

"Why are you doing this when you know I'll turn my back on you in the end?" I ask her one day, when she's healing my training wounds. She always says I push myself too much. Maybe it's true.

Her chakra is warm against my skin. Too warm.

She shrugs, and I wonder how she can take this matter so lightly.

"I guess it's because I hope that one day, I'll be as important to you as you are to me."

It'll never happen, but I don't tell her that. She'll continue with her nonsense anyway, even if she does sulk for a small while.

But I don't like seeing her sulk. It's not a pleasant sight. (However, I'm not saying that I care about her level of unhappiness, though.)

"Your faith is admirable, but it is being wasted."

She smiles, but I don't trust it. She smiles all of the time, even when she doesn't mean it—the same way I frown, even if there's nothing I'm particularly dissatisfied with.

"No, it's not," she insists. I watch as she weaves my skin back together. She is a very talented medic, but I keep my mouth shut. If I tell her, she'll grow confident, and I don't need that. "It's a _leap_ of faith," she continues as she runs her fingers over my arm to check for any abnormalities. "It's supposed to be a little risky."

Her touches send sparks to my nervous system, and I mentally note to stop using my Mangekyo as frequently, because it's obviously having some side effects.

* * *

"Your hands are cold," she mumbles breathlessly the first time I kiss her, said hands cupping her face. Her lips are warm against mine. Too warm, just like her chakra.

"And you are the complete opposite."

"It's because I have a big heart." She presses her body against mine, and I allow that. Just for a little while.

I chuckle lightly. "Are you implying that my heart is small, then?" I ask, trying not to breathe in the floral scent of her hair. _Trying_ not to.

I can hear the smile in her voice. "Smaller than mine, at least."

I have a feeling that she will continue to babble on about how selfish and cruel I am, so I kiss her again to silence her.

* * *

She is strong. I realize that.

We spar. Her kunai meets mine, and her eyes hold a determination that I haven't seen in a long time. It's almost foreign to me.

Her movements are brute; nothing like mine. I move with the fluidity of water and the heat of fire—but her steps are hard like the earth and fierce like a cutting wind. I suppose that's what I admire about her. The only thing I admire about her.

It is almost as if she's accustomed to me now. She body twists and turns with familiarity, and I begin to wonder if I had let her wander too close.

_But I want you._ I haven't forgotten her words. There is a possibility she lies just as well as I do. I must raise my guard, even around her. I must trust no one.

The both of us stop, my kunai at her throat.

She smiles. "You can kill me so easily, Itachi-san. I admire that about you."

I'm bothered by the fact that she's not afraid of me anymore.

* * *

There are many things that I don't like.

For one, I don't like the fact that I'm partnered with a shark. Not that I have anything against Kisame, but surely, don't I deserve someone better than…a fish?

Secondly, I do not like to think that I no longer have a family. I admit that Sasuke is my brother, but I highly doubt that he even considers me as such anymore.

Thirdly, I do not like the fact that I am somewhat dependent on this pink-haired medic.

Dependence means weakness. Slowly, little by little, I am growing weak because of her.

And that's what I dislike the most.

* * *

I could see it coming. I never told her, but I could see this coming from a hundred thousand miles away.

Konoha. The village that I had betrayed. The village that _she_ had betrayed. Ironic, I think.

I know how she works. I know that she'll protect whatever it is that's important to her. She faces a difficult decision now, as she chooses between her friends and me. If she chooses to return to the side of her village, she might live.

If she stays with me, she will not.

She stays true to her word. Her faith almost sickens me.

I'm more important than her village, huh?

_Weak._

I watch as she falls to the ground, bloody and lifeless and reeking of the word _betrayal_.

"Your leap of faith has failed, Sakura."

She does not respond.

Her lips form nothing, but somehow, I feel that it's now my turn to leap.

_

* * *

owari._

* * *

09-15-09: FINALLY REVISED. i had this sitting as an open document for well over a week, now. i really like this piece, so i hope it gets the attention it deserves now. i changed the summary, and hopefully it flows better now. it was all rough before. :/


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